I’m sitting here with my friend Bob at the beach. We are looking up at a house in shock. I wonder how it got there. It was a beautiful house. The color was nice, and there were outside windows, but who was going to clean up the mess after it fell and crumbled to a million pieces? Bob said the house resmbled the Manapoly game peace. I believed he was right. We had both smoked weed and felt the effects. We had thought of many scenarios for how it ended up there. It could be a glitch in the matrix. Bob said I was an NPC, and that house is a marage. I could tell the weed had gone to his head. Or that could be the house from the show on Jersey Shore. There had to be so much partying in that house that people had picked up the house and moved it. We had tried to reason with the truth. How could this house end up in the most unlivable, unbalanced places? It’s a beautiful home with a great view, just don’t look down. We had just thought it was a house that had wheels and rolled itself away from the parking lots above the beach. We decided to walk past the house and realized it was cardboard market sign for real estate. I decided to lay off the drugs. My mind can jump to so many conclusions.